


Tumblr Ficlets

by WatercolourSkies



Category: Edgar Allan Poe's Murder Mystery Dinner Party (Web Series), Firebringer - Team StarKid
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Ficlet Collection, Love Confessions, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon, Reunions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27865670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WatercolourSkies/pseuds/WatercolourSkies
Summary: A collection of ficlets I posted on Tumblr, for multiple ships and fandoms.Different tags refer to different ficlets.
Relationships: Jemilla/Zazzalil (Firebringer), Lenore/H.G. Wells
Kudos: 8





	1. Table of Contents

**Author's Note:**

> Here I will be posting any ficlets I write on Tumblr, including ones using prompts from asks and ones I wrote on a whim.

Chapter 1: Table of contents. You are here :)

Chapter 2: The Winner Takes It All - Jazzalil Angst

Chapter 3: Without Her - Wellenore Theory

Chapter 4: Linked - Zazzalil Meet Messy Soulmate AU

This will be updated as I publish more chapters.


	2. The Winner Takes It All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemilla tells Zazzalil she's won, and yet it feels like she's lost so much more.
> 
> Using the prompt, "You win, happy?" and requested by @intergalxtic on Tumblr.
> 
> Title from The Winner Takes It All by ABBA.

“You win, happy?”

“Wh-what?” Zazzalil stammered. It had been days since she and Jemilla had last spoken, since she’d let a personal argument between them affect their entire friend group.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I mean.” Jemilla practically hissed these words, her arms crossed, eyes frosty. “You always thought you knew better than me, and you hated that I was the person our friends went to when they had a problem, when a trip needed to be planned, when they got drunk and needed a ride home, and not you. You wanted that bond... that power. And now you have it. You’ve turned everyone away from me. So enjoy your new power, Zazzalil. You won it fair and square.” She stepped back, clearly about to slam her apartment door in Zazzalil’s face.

“Wait!” she exclaimed. Jemilla looked at her expectantly, but for once, she found herself lost for words. Why was it that when what she said mattered most, she could only utter a couple of single-syllable words?

Jemilla sighed, seeming almost disappointed. “Goodbye, Zazzalil.”

“But...” Zazzalil scrambled for something, anything. “I love you.” It was true, of course. She’d been in love with her friend for a long time now, but had taken those feelings out as jealousy, resentment and formed a rivalry instead of the relationship she dreamed of having with Jemilla. Now, her words were too little, too late, and probably made things worse, if anything.

The next sound she heard was that of the door hitting its frame and locking, and then all she heard was the sound of her own tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! Find me on Tumblr @her-good-professor


	3. Without Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How many attempts did it take H.G to return to the right place and time to find Lenore after the events of Poe Party?
> 
> An edited version of a post I made about my thoughts on this.

When H.G is able to return as a ghost, he acts like he’s only just realised he can time travel, like he went to the right place and time on his first try. However, clearly this is not true, as there had been at least one failed attempt where he arrived at Christmas, before he and Lenore had even met. So, why did he have this entire speech where he seemed truly excited about what he'd done? Was it just that he had prepared the speech to deliver upon his return, and his excitement was from having arrived back in the correct time. Perhaps, but perhaps it's something bigger than this.

Never is it mentioned just how many tries it took him to get to the right time. Maybe he spent what felt like months, years, decades trying to get back to the right time - back to Lenore - but when he did, he didn’t want her to know. He didn’t want her to worry. Of course, she too had waited a long time to see him again, and he didn’t want to take the focus away from that. After his return, he’d let her vent as much as she needed to about how much she’d missed him, about how she’d thought she’d lost the man she loved for the second time, but he would stay quiet about the extent and length of the pain he’d experienced, at least until it didn’t feel like he was taking away the time she needed to recover from her. He didn’t want to add to the sadness. After all, he reminded himself, he was back now, and they could be together… forever, if that was what they both wished.

Still, that didn’t stop the memories of his time away from her from sometimes returning to him, along with the thought that he would never find her again, that in one day he had found and lost the person he was sure he wanted to spend his life (or afterlife, as it were) with.

He’d never be able to forget that, but being able to look over at the ghost next to him and watch her smile warmly at him did help.


	4. Linked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zazzalil and Jemilla's first meeting starts off on the wrong foot, which becomes a problem when they realise they have a special connection.
> 
> Jazzalil meet messy soulmate au, using the prompt, "Hold on." Requested by @intergalxtic on Tumblr.

It all started with two girls putting their hand on the same seat at the same time.

Zazzalil looked up to see a pretty girl with curly hair who was presumably her classmate this year giving her a look that was already verging on stern. She assumed she was one of the new students who had joined the school after the private one not too far away had shut down, and Zazzalil probably would have greeted her warmly if it wasn't for the impasse that appeared to be developing.

“Excuse me,” the girl said with frosty politeness. “I’m sitting here.”

“Yeah, sorry, but I kind of need this chair.” The girl’s brow furrowed, and somehow that was enough to give Zazzalil the strong urge to glare at her. “Me and my friends all want to sit together, and there aren’t enough chairs at our table, so…” She gave the chair a tug, but the girl’s hand did not move.

“First of all, it’s ‘my friends and I’...” 

_Oh, go fuck yourself,_ Zazzalil thought.

“...and I also want to sit with my friends.” She gestured at the other teenagers at her table, none of whom Zazzalil recognised. They all looked various degrees of uncomfortable. Zazzalil hoped that was because they all saw how unreasonable this girl was being.

“Zazz!” The call came from Keeri, Zazzalil’s best friend since elementary school, who was sitting at a table with their friend group. “Everything okay?”

“One minute.”

“Look…” Zazzalil turned back to the annoying girl as she trailed off, clearly wanting Zazzalil’s name.

“...Zazzalil,” she said reluctantly, feeling like that in itself showed weakness.

“Jemilla,” the other girl introduced herself in turn. “Anyway, Zazzalil, can’t you just find another chair? You want to sit with your friends, and I want to sit with mine. Can’t we both have what we want?”

That almost brought Zazzalil to laughter. Give up, just like that? There was no way she was giving up that easily. This chair was hers, or her name wasn’t…

“Zazzalil, Jemilla.” Both girls turned their heads to see their teacher, Molag, standing before them. Molag was a very relaxed sort of teacher, and insisted her students call her by her first name, but she still had her limits. “While I think the whole class - myself included - are all fascinated by your newfound rivalry -” She didn’t even seem to be joking “- I do need to start the lesson at some point, so if you could quickly decide who’s gonna win this round, that would be great.”

With a large sigh and a fiery glare at Jemilla, Zazzalil walked over to another table and dragged another spare seat over to her, letting the legs scrape against the floor, and flopped down onto it. She threw one last furious look at Jemilla, and her glare grew as she noticed the tiny smirk on Jemilla’s face before she looked away.

Jemilla knew she’d won, it was clear, but this was far from the end. She’d won the battle, but if she thought she’d win the war, she had another thing coming.

* * *

As the bell for recess rang, Zazzalil headed out of the classroom with Keeri and Tiblyn, who she’d just had science with. She’d barely taken a step out of the building, when she once again heard someone calling her name.

“Zazzalil, hold on!”

She looked back, and who was jogging up behind her but Jemilla, hear to apologise, no doubt. Zazzalil stood still, arms crossed. Her two friends cast her a look, and she quickly told them she’d catch up with them.

“Well?” she said once the girl had reached her and said nothing for a couple of seconds.

Jemilla looked confused. “Well, what?”

“Aren’t you going to apologise?”

Jemilla scoffed. “Me? Apologise? For what, exactly?” She crossed her arms across her chest, mirroring Zazzalil.

“Um, for embarrassing me in front of everyone this morning? For acting like just because you’ve come from some fancy school, you’re better than everyone else?” Okay, maybe she hadn’t said that, but those were the vibes Zazzalil had got.

“Wow.” Jemilla looked away, as if she was sharing a look with the camera. Then, she continued, “I’m pretty sure everyone else in that classroom knew that you were the one in the wrong. From the way you acted, it seems like you’re the entitled one, not me. For a matter of fact, I came over here to give you the chance to apologise.”

Zazzalil let out a bitter laugh, raising and then lowering and shaking her head. “What? What…” She stopped. She had just caught sight of something on Jemilla’s wrist. It was a mark, an image of two circles, linked, with a triangle pointing up into the centre. “Hold on. What is that?”

Jemilla looked where Zazzalil was pointing, seeming confused at the change of subject. “This?” She raised her arm.

“Yeah. Is… is that a drawing or something?”

“Um, no?” The girl was clearly wondering why that was her first instinct. “It’s my soulmate mark. Why do you ask?”

“Uh, it’s nothing,” Zazzalil replied quickly, subconsciously pulling her sleeves down further onto, until they began to cover her hands.

“It wasn’t nothing, I can tell.” Jemilla offered her a small, still confused smile. “Let me guess, you have an identical mark and you’re my soulmate,” she joked, and hearing the words out loud made Zazzalil feel like she’d just been punched in the stomach.

“Um, well…” Slowly, she pulled her sleeve back up, revealing the same two circles and triangle, in the exact same place as Jemilla’s. She squeezed her eyes shut, as if that would somehow lessen the impact.

“Oh.”

Yes, oh, indeed. What were they going to do now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing this, and I kind of feel inspired to write a continuation of it at some point, if anyone would be interested. I hope I have captured the characters well here, and I hope you enjoyed reading!


End file.
